


Glittering Gold

by silentdescant



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: kink_bingo, Figging, M/M, Master/Servant, Master/Slave, Object Insertion, Slavery, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:26:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for <a href="http://glam-kink.livejournal.com/664.html?thread=556952#t556952">this prompt</a> on Glam_Kink: Lord Lambert likes fucking his boys when they're already ready and open for him, so he orders Taylor and Terrance, his loyal servants, to prepare Tommy. They bath him, finger him and fuck him with something other than a conventional sex toy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glittering Gold

**Author's Note:**

> "object penetration" for kink_bingo, woo! and this is my last fic, just under the wire, for G_K's summer fill fest.

The king’s chambers are stunning. Tommy stops short when the guards open the door and take him inside, but he’s not allowed a moment to take in the sight; they pull him along by the arms and position him in the center of the main room, in front of a raised dais with plush couches and pillows. The fabric is all rich red, but gold is the overwhelming color of the décor. The furniture, the plates brimming with fresh fruit, even the walls and the floor have some element of gold to them. With the open windows and the setting sunlight streaming in through the gauzy curtains, the room seems very warm and bright, even though the breeze makes Tommy shiver.

There is a man on the center couch on the dais, with black hair and painted eyes, and a heavy goblet in his hand. He’s powerfully built and shirtless, and he has no marks on him but for freckles that mottle his pale skin. Tommy guesses this man is the king, and he lowers his head respectfully.

Another man—boy, really—lounges near him, much thinner and smaller but dressed almost as elegantly in flowing pants and gold bracelets around his wrists. He smiles at Tommy and then winks as he pops a strawberry into his mouth.

The main doors thud loudly as they close, and when Tommy turns to look, he sees the guards have left him alone. He looks around for anyone else, and startles when he feels a warm hand on his arm.

“You’re very pretty,” says a dark-skinned man in a low voice. Tommy isn’t sure how to respond, but this man is also wearing gold jewelry and the fine fabric of the upper class, so he nods to show his respect.

“He’s wearing too many clothes,” says the young man.

The king gives him an amused look. “Why don’t you do something about that, Taylor.”

“With pleasure, m’lord.”

The boy, Taylor, slides off the couch and comes to Tommy, moving lightly on his feet. He lifts Tommy’s vest over his head while the other man bends down and pulls Tommy’s rough trousers down his legs. They both take a few steps back, leaving Tommy naked in front of the king, who twirls one finger in the air. Tommy spins in a slow circle, letting the king look his fill. He feels even more exposed than usual under the intense stare, but he can’t help but smile at getting such prestigious attention. When he faces front, he bows his head again.

“Very pretty indeed,” the king murmurs. He takes a long sip from his goblet. “I’m satisfied. Prepare him.”

“What’s your name, pretty?” Taylor asks, sidling up beside Tommy and smiling flirtatiously. Tommy looks him quickly up and down, searching for a mark that would identify him as a pleasure slave, but finds nothing. Maybe he doesn’t work with a house, but Tommy’s sure he’s been trained in the arts. Maybe he works exclusively for the king.

“My name is Tommy,” he replies. “I was trained by the Tiger House.”

“Ooh, this one’s got experience,” says the dark-skinned man. He grins wickedly and Tommy can see that he’s teasing, but he’s not sure if he should be offended. “Maybe you’ll last longer than the last one.”

“Terrance,” the king says sharply. “I said prepare him, not frighten him.”

“Should I be frightened?” Tommy asks Taylor in a low voice. Taylor just smiles.

Terrance is the one who answers him, with a wink and a flash of teeth. “Not of Lord Lambert. But maybe of us.”

“Ignore him,” Taylor cuts in. “He likes to scare boys like you. He likes making them scream.”

“What does the king like?”

“I like you to do what you’re told,” the king snaps. “Stop stalling, boys. Tommy, yes? On your back.”

Tommy drops at once to his knees, then slowly reclines until his shoulders touch the cold floor beneath him. He spreads his legs slightly and glances up at Lord Lambert, who is watching him with an assessing sort of look. Terrance takes Tommy’s wrists in his hands and draws them up over his head.

“Leave them there,” he says firmly. Tommy nods.

Taylor goes back up to the dais and is greeted with a kiss as he settles in against the king’s side. Lord Lambert hands Taylor his goblet and Taylor drinks greedily before setting it down. The king lifts his hand to Taylor’s dark hair, petting him, his golden rings glinting in the light.

Tommy shifts his attention back to Terrance, who pulls a small bottle of oil from a pocket in his baggy pants. He shakes it in front of Tommy’s face.

“I bet you that even with all your experience being on your back for rich men, you’ve never had oils like this inside you.”

Tommy’s never been surrounded by such finery; he doesn’t argue. “What’s special about it?”

Terrance grins. “You’ll see.”

“Open him up, Terrance,” Lord Lambert says. “Your games are not amusing me today.”

Terrance rolls his eyes and sucks two of his long fingers into his mouth. Tommy exhales and closes his eyes, waiting. A moment later, Terrance’s hand slides down between Tommy’s thighs, pulling them wider and exposing Tommy’s ass to the king before slipping inside his hole, both at once. Tommy gasps and clenches his hands into fists, but he’s had much worse. He bears down on the intrusion and moans high in his throat as his body gets used to the stretch.

His cock hardens as Terrance pets him inside and out, and when Terrance notices, he laughs.

“Oh, you are trained, aren’t you?” He twists his fingers inside Tommy, stroking over his prostate, and smiles when Tommy’s body shudders. He reaches up and touches Tommy’s wrists, still crossed above his head. “You’re a very good boy, Tommy.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tommy whispers. He closes his eyes.

“Bring him up here,” Lord Lambert commands.

Terrance withdraws his fingers and slaps Tommy’s thigh lightly, jolting him into awareness again. Tommy looks up between his knees at the king’s dark eyes and sly smile, then follows quickly when Terrance leads him up onto the dais. Taylor gets up from the couch he shares with the king and directs Tommy to the other one, settling him down on his back with his thighs parted and his ass exposed. From up here, closer to the windows and the sunlight, the entire room seems made of gold, and it makes Tommy feel warm.

“So fucking pretty,” Taylor murmurs, gently petting Tommy’s leg. “Sir?”

“Go ahead,” Lord Lambert prompts, and the corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. Tommy isn’t sure what the joke is, but he isn’t upset by it; the king’s gaze is kind and Tommy feels safer in this lavish room than he has in the many dirty, tiny rooms men rent for the night.

Terrance hands Taylor the bottle of oil and Taylor pulls the stopper and soaks his fingers without preamble. Tommy shifts his weight and focuses on accepting Taylor’s fingers into his body; they slide easily, and the oil isn’t cold, and Tommy lets out a quiet moan of pleasure. It’s always better to show appreciation.

Taylor fucks Tommy with his two fingers for a long moment, spreading the oil into his body but doing little to stretch him wider. Terrance’s fingers were thicker than Taylor’s, and Taylor isn’t doing anything but pushing straight in, pulling straight out. Tommy had assumed the two servants were preparing him for the king, but now he isn’t so sure.

“This is special oil,” Taylor tells him softly. “It isn’t like whatever your house taught you to use. Smell it, isn’t it lovely?”

Terrance takes the bottle and holds it close to Tommy’s face, and it does have a peculiar scent. Tommy can’t place it, and it doesn’t smell of roses, but he nods anyway. Taylor grins at him and continues steadily thrusting his fingers at the same unsatisfying pace.

But then the oil that had felt pleasantly warm grows suddenly hot inside Tommy’s ass. He rolls his hips, trying to find the source of the strange sensation, and the movement causes Taylor’s fingers to brush his prostate and suddenly Tommy’s panting and shaking and thrusting back into Taylor’s hand, desperate for more fingers, more friction, more _anything_.

He hears someone chuckling over the rush of his own blood pounding in his ears. The king. Tommy meets his eyes for a fraction of a second before Taylor’s fingers brush that spot inside him again and set another round of burning need coursing through his body. He starts to reach for his cock, needing some relief, but Terrance is there, holding him down firmly and pressing his shoulders down into the soft cushions.

“Now he’s feeling it,” Terrance laughs.

“He’s going to come,” Taylor adds, nodding at Tommy’s leaking cock.

“No,” cuts in Lord Lambert. “Don’t let him come yet.”

“Think he’ll last?” Terrance asks.

The king stands up, towering over all three of them. His face is in shadow, and his face, the image of his dark hair and kind eyes and full, pink lips, is the only spot in clear focus in Tommy’s eyes. “Tommy,” Lord Lambert says loudly. “Will you wait for my order?”

Tommy clenches his teeth tightly and tries not to squirm too much against Terrance’s strong hold. “Yes, m’lord,” he grunts. “Yes. But. Please, m’lord, please—”

“Not yet,” the king says firmly as he sits back down on his couch. He lounges with his legs spread wide, and Tommy can see the impressive bulge in his pants. He wonders if the king will fuck him, or if he’s expected to give the king another form of pleasure.

“Now?” Taylor asks. For a brief moment, Tommy’s heart leaps with relief, but he catches Terrance shaking his head.

“Yes, now,” Lord Lambert replies. Taylor looks gleeful, and his fingers leave Tommy’s ass. Tommy moans loudly in protest, trying and failing to struggle free and give himself some release.

Taylor doesn’t go far. He reaches for something on the table; the plates and goblets clink together as he moves them around, and when he finally finds what he’s searching for, he holds it up for Tommy to see. It’s a serving spoon, gold from top to bottom, and the ornate handle has a series of bulbous carvings. Tommy glances back to the wicked expression on Taylor’s face and loses his breath.

“Oh fuck, yes, please, I need it, please,” he cries, thrashing in earnest. Terrance leans down on him, puts his full weight behind his arms as he locks Tommy into stillness.

Taylor licks his lips and lowers the spoon and the first touch of the cold handle against Tommy’s ass makes him shudder. It warms quickly as Taylor pushes it into him, and Tommy clenches around the first bauble when it’s fully inside. The thick metal does little to relieve the pressure building in Tommy’s body, but it does give him something solid and hard to thrust down on, to grind against, to _fuck_. Taylor thrusts it in deep, a quick motion that Tommy greedily pushes back against, and Tommy’s legs jerk wildly as the handle presses hard against his prostate. Taylor rocks the makeshift dildo, twists it a little so Tommy can feel the carvings. Tommy shouts his desperation, begging as well as he can while unable to think of the words.

“In all that training, you’ve never had something like this? Never had solid gold shoved up your ass, eh, Tommy?” Terrance murmurs in a low, taunting tone. “You’re certainly pretty enough to deserve this, though. Pretty gold hair.”

“He’s gonna fucking come,” Taylor moans appreciatively. Tommy tries to convey his wholehearted agreement.

“Sorry, please, let me, please, I can’t,” he sobs. He can’t even control his body anymore; he’s meeting Taylor’s thrusts with violent passion and he’s pulling against Terrance’s hands even though he doesn’t want to get free. He has no hope of keeping himself from orgasm.

“Let him come,” the king says, his voice clear and loud. “He’s been very good.”

Taylor’s free hand closes in a tight fist around Tommy’s cock. He barely even lasts one full stroke before coming all over Taylor’s smooth hand. Taylor wipes himself off on Tommy’s stomach, and gently pulls out the gold spoon, and Terrance eases up on Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy lies there, panting, as the other men move away to make room for Lord Lambert.

“You were very good, Tommy,” the king murmurs. He takes hold of Tommy’s chin and holds his face still as the rest of Tommy’s body slowly settles. He relaxes under the king’s soft gaze, unmindful of the fact that he’s covered in his own mess and sprawled carelessly over the king’s fine, plush couch in his personal chambers.

The king doesn’t seem to take notice either, though, and instead leans down and grants Tommy a deep, wet kiss. Tommy feels as opened up by Lord Lambert’s tongue as by Taylor’s oily fingers. After a long moment, Tommy remembers his duty and asks, “How may I pleasure you, m’lord?”

Lord Lambert flowing pants are tented around his erection, which Tommy can now see is quite impressive. He shifts his arm, an aborted attempt to offer the use of his hand, but the king puts a stop to that.

“Shh, pretty one, don’t try to move yet.”

Tommy is grateful for the king’s permission to lie still; he’s exhausted and the fiery need that overcame him is finally beginning to fade. He blows out a long breath and closes his eyes, just for a moment. He listens to the sounds of bare feet on the floor, the clinking of plates as they’re shifted around. He hears a low murmur of the king’s voice but can’t make out the words.

And then there’s the loud thud of the heavy doors closing. Tommy opens his eyes and finds himself alone with the king.

“You did very well, Tommy,” he says. “But you aren’t finished yet.”

Lord Lambert slowly opens the ties on his pants and lets them fall to the floor. Tommy opens his thighs wider and licks his lips.

“Let me pleasure you, m'lord.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
